Quick Change

The Big Apple is a bitch that often doesn't love its citizens back, a fact that has been well documented on film. And so, Quick Change is a break-up letter to New York City, signed by nearly every character in the film. Bill Murray's career as a city planner is especially poignant: someone who made this place has now given up on it. But he's going to rob the sandcastle he helped build before leaving it for good.

Quickly, Murray realizes that his creation is a sand castle that can't be kicked over -- "knocked over" in both senses of that phrase -- or washed away (Deep Impact fans, your objection is duly noted). Stealing millions and skipping town on a red eye flight with his best girl (Geena Davis) and best friend (Randy Quaid) in tow is the plan, but the city that never sleeps has other plans.

That Murray sees no way out of the city other than on a jet plane reveals how engulfing this melting pot really is. It's as if the imaginary steel sides of the pot sit looming at the edge of the city, too high and slippery to get over. Not for a second does Murray consider getting away on land, yet he, Davis, and Quaid drive around for hours on end, gathering last reminders of what led them to their contempt in the first place. Most of Quick Change is a road trip movie, yet it's set within a single city.

What viewers are meant to find charming, the characters find repulsive: a Spanish jousting match with garden equipment in Queens, a stoned-out guitar player who literally can't get on a bus, a taxi cab driver who smiles and nods but can't understand where his fare wants to be taken. At every turn, Murray realizes that his career has been pointless. You can't plan the growth of a city like this, nor can you attempt to control or even understand its inherent life force. You either accept or reject it and these three protagonists reject it.

Is their hatred racist? Possibly, but because co-directors Murray and the film's screenwriter Howard Franklin steer Quick Change's tone firmly into absurdist territory and away from the social commentary direction that Jonathan Demme -- who was attached to direct the film at one point -- would have possibly taken it, the interracial mingling between characters becomes almost entirely benign.

If anything, the most pointed racial message that remains is, if you can't mingle, it's best to get out. But, in this case, it's the protagonists who are implored to leave. Murray, Davis, and Quaid start their travels with a sense of entitlement, moving from one ethnic neighbourhood to another, lost and amazed at what they are seeing and hearing. They are the ones who have fallen off the hegemony wagon. If not for having robbed a bank, they'd go entirely unnoticed.

Quick Change will never find a mass following because the characters in the film learn practically nothing -- a major no no in popular American film -- and are driven only by selfish, base needs, as opposed to evolving moral compasses. The miracle of this movie is that it's extremely pleasant and constantly likeable, yet it leaves questions of values, both "good" and "bad," off the table. Not only are such elements not missed, but it's a welcome relief, a load off, to watch a comedy involving a couple that's about so many more interesting things than the couple's relationship.

Murray and Franklin attempt to deliver a sincere romantic comedy element to the film, but it's painfully obvious that Murray couldn't care less and it comes through both in his performance and in his influence over the film's overall tone. He's just not a tender guy. Throughout his romantic leading man career, Bill Murray's onscreen persona has captured the kind of husband who's loyal because he refuses to be tender.

Throughout, the actors seem to sense that they're in a movie which looks like a stupid, throwaway comedy, but is actually exceedingly rich and smart. They appear to be having loads of fun without ever cracking a smile to each other onscreen. How could they not? The plot of Quick Change is so absurd, and the cat-and-mouse game so playful, all while finding the lightest touch between stupidity and intelligence.

Each performance, big and small, grounds the film. Murray's clown costume, and especially his balloons, are the perfect metaphor for the film: light and threatening to float away, but for every helium-filled aside -- like the aforementioned Spanish jousting match with garden equipment -- there's a great supporting performance to tether the story. Jason Robards gives the film a lot of its grounding. He's the perfect cat to Murray's wise ass mouse.

Warner Brothers ought to be ashamed of leaving this movie out to dry on DVD. After delaying its release, indicating some juicy extras would be coming, they decided to issue a standard, bare bones disc that makes no attempt to understand why Quick Change is loved by so many who see it, yet seen by so few. Warner has a cult classic on its hands. Some featurettes and retrospective documentaries could have only fanned the flame of interest and given this gem a well-deserved context. -- Jason Woloski